‘Then you will guess that I loved my time touring as Beverley. Such anuancedrole.’
I nodded vaguely, hoping she wouldn’t expect me to remember too much.
‘Or maybe Coward is more your thing?Private Lives, Amanda, terrific fun.’
‘Oh yes, I’ve seen that a few times, I love that play.’
‘Maybe we should perform a short scene?’
‘Oh gosh, no, I don’t think I’d be very good at that.’
‘You’d be fabulous. But perhaps something less scripted would be fun. Charades! Oh, do come on everyone, Charades!’
She stood up and started organising us into teams before most of us had a chance to object. Pilar, however, was too quick for her, draining her drink and rising off the sofa with terrific aplomb and casting a ‘buenas noches’ over her shoulder as she shot out of the room.
‘What a shame she’s gone,’ said William, looking disappointed. ‘She could have chosen Spanish films and books none of us philistines have ever heard of and won easily.’
‘I think Pilar might think she’s on the winning side, anyway,’ said Xander, grinning. ‘Maybe she needs some help in the kitchen—’
‘Don’t you dare,’ said Bunny. ‘Anyway, you know you can’t resist showing off in Charades.’
He shrugged good-naturedly and Daphne allocated the teams: me with her and Xander, the other team comprising William and Bunny. I made a mental note to message my parents about this later. They would find the idea of us all gathered round playing a traditional parlour game hilarious but endearing and would probably be inviting their neighbours in for some of the same within the hour.
‘All right, we have five minutes to scribble down some titles and then we will begin. William, I think that Charades really demands champagne, wouldn’t you agree?’
He seized her hand and squeezed it.
‘Daphne, you are a marvel. Back in a mo.’
Half an hour later, we were all screaming with laughter at the frantic gesticulations of our team members, quaffing champagne (all except Bunny, of course) and accusing each other of cheating.
‘Sorry, but who put inBohemian Rhapsody? How thehellam I supposed to mime that?’
‘Well, it’s not as difficult asThe Iliad. Who put that in?’
Nobody owned up. I was glad, hoping to maintain the illusion that it might have been me. Of course, I only ever manage to come up with children’s book titles for these things, andWhat the Ladybird Heardhad been guessed quite quickly.
Even under Daphne’s skilful direction, the game eventually collapsed, and nobody had any idea how many points each team had, let alone who had won, but we were all exhausted and happy and more than a little drunk. I made the mistake of glancing at my watch.
‘Oh no, look at the time! I’m going to go up. Thank you all for such a fun evening – and it was such a pleasure to meet you, Daphne.’
I was treated to another scented embrace before I tottered into the hall and began navigating the stairs, making full use of the banister to keep me on track.
As I got ready for bed, the excitement provided by the evening’s fun and the lift of the champagne began to subside. I pulled on my pyjamas and sat on the side of the bed, feeling a distinct sense of coming down. An image flashed into my head of Lando’s cosy, messy, wood-infused studio and I felt a powerful yearning to be there. It was not only I who had brought calm to him; I had also found it there myself, in the peace and the purpose. Did life have to be one thing or the other, I wondered, adventureor‘sensible’? Maybe it was possible to have both, to give up neither. I snuggled under the covers and started to read my book, but a thought kept creeping into my head, waving its brightly coloured ‘good idea’ flag. After several glasses of champagne, I should have known better than to listen to its siren call, but my defences were down, and it was very compelling.
Why don’t you text Timothy?it whispered.He’s certainly sensible, and now that you’ve got more of an eye on adventure, maybe you’d be the perfect pair again? It would be better than trying to start again with somebody else…
My feeble protestations were met with firm resistance, and the conviction that texting Timothy was a Good Idea became so strong that even my final vanguard suggesting that I at least waited until the morning was effortlessly dismissed. I reached for my phone.
TEN
I woke up earlier the next day than I would have liked but felt better than I would have expected. Maybe champagne was the answer? It would be very non-sensible to decide that, from now on, it was my only tipple. I allowed a few pleasant pictures of myself quaffing bubbly in various locations – admittedly, Lando’s messy studio was one of them – to drift across my mind, when another picture rudely interrupted. My hand flew to my mouth and then to my phone. Oh no, I hadn’t texted Timothy – had I? Even as I tapped in my PIN and opened WhatsApp, I knew that I had done it, not dreamt it. There it was:
Hello. Just wondering how you’re doing? I’m fine. Wonderful in fact! Having an adventure this Christmas. Be good to see you xx
I threw the phone across the bed, unfairly blaming it for the message, rather than my own, stupid, champagne-addled self. Almost immediately, I seized it back.Maybe, a tiny glimmer of hope whispered,maybe he hasn’t seen it yet. You can delete it, job done, then delete his bloody number and you’re home free.But no. There were the treacherous two blue ticks. He had read it. An hour ago, at least, according to the time stamp. I knew how this worked now. I would suffer an uncomfortable, churning mix of feelings in my stomach all day. On the one hand, hoping he would reply, which would end the suspense if nothing else, and on the other, hoping he wouldn’t, because I really, really didn’t want to get back in touch with Timothy. But what could I do? Other than send another message, withdrawing the first message, which felt a bit desperate, I was powerless to influence the situation. I would have to wait until he replied – if he replied – and style it out from there. All I could do now was to get a grip on myself and try not to think about it. To this end I switched the phone off, shoved it under a pillow and quickly grabbed my dressing gown to go down to breakfast. I was sure that the Lords would distract me soon enough.
I was first downstairs again, but it wasn’t long before the family followed, William starry-eyed with love for Daphne, and even Bunny looking brighter. She drew me to one side and spoke to me quietly.
